


Casa Nova

by menel



Series: What If We Do? [2]
Category: Pacific Rim (2013)
Genre: Developing Relationship, Festival, First Time, M/M, Possessive Behavior
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-29
Updated: 2013-10-29
Packaged: 2017-12-30 20:19:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,782
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1022962
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/menel/pseuds/menel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Lima. Festival. Herc and Yancy, take two. :-)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Casa Nova

**Author's Note:**

> I don’t know how to explain the existence of this fic, but I’ll try. The idea came to me after writing “The Bolder One” because I couldn’t believe how badly Raleigh had cock blocked his own brother. I felt that Yancy deserved another shot at Herc and vice versa. In that sense, this fic is a sequel to “The Bolder One.”
> 
> But in another way, it’s not. While “The Bolder One” is a prequel to the main story, "Now the Day is Over," this fic is more an hypothetical scenario. Raleigh and Herc will never reference the events in this fic because they simply didn’t happen. This story (sadly) wouldn’t work in the main ‘verse. In other words, this is an AU treatment of my own ‘verse. How messed up is that? :-)

Herc stood in the porch of the little cabana, taking a long draught from his ice-cold beer, the condensation from the bottle wetting his hand as he took in the scenery before him. It was like being on holiday except he couldn’t remember the last time he’d had a proper holiday – probably when Angela had still been alive and Chuck had just been a tiny tot – but he suspected that this is what it was supposed to be like. The peace, the quiet, the beautiful scenery and, perhaps most importantly, having someone you cared about to share it with you. The problem was he hadn’t had anyone he’d cared about – barring his turbulent relationship with his own brother – in a very long time. And the person he was here with now, on the beachfront several hours outside of Lima – was someone who wouldn’t have even made the list (the very, very short list) just two months ago. But the world was upside down now and Herc didn’t question it when Yancy Becket came out onto the porch to join him, wearing nothing but white boxers. 

“Hey,” he said, taking the beer from Herc and having a drink. “Wanna go back to bed?” 

Herc smiled at Yancy affectionately. He’d been comfortable around Yancy from the start and he couldn’t say that for a lot of people. Taking his bottle of beer back, he followed the other man inside.

* * * * *

The Lima Shatterdome was much like every other Shatterdome that Herc had been to except that it was a lot more festive. Maybe it had to do with the climate or the people or simply the time of year. It would be inaccurate to say that all Shatterdomes were alike. Sure, architecturally that would be true, but each Shatterdome had its own character and Herc suspected that the South American Shatterdomes in Lima and Panama City had the most character of them all.

Herc was here for what Scott had laughingly called ‘Caring and Sharing Week.’ The ‘week’ part was inaccurate since his visit would only last four days, but the ‘caring and sharing’ part, unfortunately, was not. In order to facilitate better relations and improve efficacy among the Shatterdomes, the PPDC had mandated a series of round robin observations and training drills every six months so that a senior Ranger would spend time in a different base, observe and evaluate the functioning of that base, as well as spend time with that Academy’s recruits. It was the luck of the draw where you ended up or if you were even selected. In Herc and Scott’s case, they didn’t have much choice when it came to the latter. They were the default Ranger team from Sydney’s Shatterdome and they’d taken to alternating the ‘honor’ of Caring and Sharing Week. 

Herc had taken a look at the list of Rangers assigned to Lima. There were representatives from six of the ten Shatterdomes including Tokyo, Sydney, Vladivostok, Hong Kong, Kyushu and Anchorage. If Herc had lingered a little at the name of the Anchorage representative (Zeke Amarok), he thought nothing of it. Now he was sitting in one of those uncomfortable metal chairs in one of the briefing rooms, waiting for the official welcome to Lima. Most of the other Rangers had arrived and after a few quick nods and brief ‘Hellos,’ Herc had settled into a chair away from the others. He’d never been one to socialize. He sipped the complimentary coffee from a Styrofoam cup and a pleased sigh escaped him. Whatever else happened this week, he’d be guaranteed good coffee. It was Lima’s big advantage over Sydney. 

The session was finally getting underway when someone slipped into the seat beside him. 

“At least the coffee’s good, right?” the person said conversationally. 

Herc looked to his right, recognizing that voice immediately. He was greeted by the sight of Yancy Becket settling in with a Styrofoam cup of his own from which he was sipping. Yancy grinned at him over the lid of the cup and Herc couldn’t help but grin back. Caring and Sharing Week wasn’t looking so tedious after all.

* * * * *

The visiting Rangers would be working in pairs for the four days, rotating their responsibilities until they’d covered everything that the PPDC required them to do. Herc was going to suggest that he and Yancy work together, but the American Jaeger pilot beat him to it. It was good to know that they were still on the same wavelength. They’d been scheduled for observation and evaluation for the first two days, while the last two would be spent with the Lima Shatterdome’s Academy recruits.

After the morning meet-and-greet, he and Yancy were given their private ‘tour guide,’ the senior J-Tech officer of the Shatterdome, Diego Martinez. Diego seemed young to Herc to hold such a high-ranking position. The kid looked even younger than Yancy and Yancy was only what? Twenty-five? Thinking about Yancy’s age – or more correctly, his youth – was a sobering realization. Raleigh’s, even more so. He was almost relieved that he hadn’t pursued Raleigh in that way. Almost. 

They found out during the course of the tour that Diego was the resident prodigy, hence his youth. (He was twenty-four.) Diego had a free, easygoing personality, a good counterbalance to Herc and Yancy’s more reserved natures. Yancy, in particular, warmed up to Diego immediately and Herc suspected that the younger pilot saw shades of Raleigh in the J-Tech. As their little group passed another touring team composed of Ranger Yoshida from Tokyo and Ranger Gurov from Vladivostok with their grim-faced guide, Herc was relieved that Diego had been assigned to them. 

The tour took up the rest of the morning and by the time Herc and Yancy finally had a chance to talk about non-PPDC business, they had managed to secure a small table in one of the nooks of the second floor of the mess hall. 

“What happened to Zeke Amarok?” Herc asked, digging into his rice and red beans, sprinkled with pork and spices. It wasn’t only the coffee that was better, he reflected as the flavors of Peru burst over his tongue from the simple rice dish. 

“Came down with appendicitis,” Yancy said. “He was being rushed to the hospital for an appendectomy the day before he was supposed to fly to Peru.” 

“And Ilisapie Flint?” Herc followed up, referring to Zeke’s cousin and co-pilot. “Shouldn’t he have been Zeke’s replacement?” 

“Ah, that,” Yancy said, his tone both amused and exasperated. “That was my brilliant brother’s doing. Raleigh corralled Flint into going on a recruitment drive with him through the Midwest states. Even convinced the Marshal that an inter-racial drive would be a good idea. Zeke and Flint are of Inuit descent,” he explained, leaning in slightly. “Personally,” Yancy went on, dropping his voice a little. “I think Raleigh just wants a chance to get into Flint’s pants. He’s had a hard on for him for a while.” 

Herc almost choked at this unexpected revelation but somehow managed to force down the lump of rice that had almost got stuck in his throat. He washed the rice down with a drink of water before he spoke. 

“Could be complicated,” he said at last. “Sleeping with a Ranger stationed at the same ‘dome.” 

Yancy sighed. “Yeah, that’s what I told him too,” he said. “But once Rals gets an idea in his head . . .” he trailed off, picking up a chicken drumstick and biting into it. “I gotta admit though,” he said after a moment. “Raleigh’s pretty good at keeping his liaisons discreet. Thank god.” He stopped suddenly and looked at Herc. “Not that – ” he began. 

“Scott could take a few lessons from him,” Herc interrupted, letting the other man off the hook. 

Yancy grinned, appreciating the gesture, and went back to enjoying his drumstick. 

“So, your brother’s the love ’em and leave ’em type?” Herc said into the comfortable silence. 

“He’s not into relationships,” Yancy admitted. “I’m hoping that’ll come with maturity, that he’ll realize there’s more to life than a one-night stand.” He shrugged. “So far none of his flings have come back to haunt him, though I s’ppose it’s only a matter of time. Not sure how Rals does it, but there never seems to be any bad blood between him and whomever he hooks up with.” 

“Maybe he just knows how to choose the right partner,” Herc supplied. That, he thought, and Raleigh’s ridiculous charm. Who could be immune to that? 

Herc could feel Yancy watching him steadily and he found himself studiously avoiding the other man’s gaze. He’d noticed the look Yancy had given him when he’d described Raleigh as the love ‘em and leave ‘em kind. There had been something disconcerting about it. It was as if Yancy had figured out something, had realized that his inquiry hadn’t really been on behalf of his brother, Scott. It was something Herc had wanted to know for his own personal reasons, whatever those reasons might be. It bothered him that he was still thinking about Raleigh almost two months after meeting him in Manila. He felt even worse when he remembered that he was in Yancy’s company. It was time to change the subject. 

“What have you been up to?” he asked.

* * * * *

The visiting Rangers had been assigned the unoccupied rooms in the Rangers quarters of the Shatterdome. Yancy had laughed good-naturedly when it turned out that he and Herc would be sharing the only double-room. Everyone else had single quarters.

“Can’t seem to catch a break, can we?” he asked, tossing his duffel onto one of the bunks. He surveyed the room as Herc put his stuff on the other bunk on the other side of the room. 

The beds were opposite each other, but the room was clearly designed so that each pilot had a semblance of personal space with the room neatly divided in half. The shared bathroom was opposite the entrance, right smack in the middle of the room. 

“Layout’s different too,” Yancy said. “Gives you the illusion of more space. You must be used to sharing with Scott as your co-pilot.” 

Herc was rummaging in his duffel for his toothbrush. “Actually,” he replied. “Scott and I don’t share a room.” 

“Huh,” was Yancy’s response. He’d already kicked off his boots and had stretched out on the bed. “That’s unusual. How’d you swing that?” 

“I share a room with my boy, Chuck. Scott has his own quarters. Sometimes Chuck bunks with him to get away from his old man.” He didn’t add that Chuck would be joining the Academy in a couple of months and then for the first time he’d have the room to himself. Chuck would have to bunk with the other recruits. 

Yancy looked at him thoughtfully. “Didn’t realize you had a kid.” 

“I like to keep my private life private,” Herc answered. He’d been fiercely protective of Chuck while the kid grew up. He was _still_ fiercely protective of him, even though the kid was picking up a number of Scott’s bad habits. There wasn’t much Herc could do about that, and he certainly didn’t begrudge Chuck’s closeness to his uncle. 

Yancy nodded. “Privacy’s a luxury these days,” he agreed. 

A banging on their door interrupted their conversation. 

“It’s open,” Yancy called out. 

The metal door swung open, revealing a broadly grinning Russian holding up a bottle of vodka. 

“After dinner drinks and entertainment,” Gurov announced. “Courtesy of Mother Russia.” 

“I see the drinks,” Yancy replied. “But what’s the entertainment?” 

Gurov pulled out a packet of cards from his front pocket and spread them artfully with one hand. The man’s reputation as a card shark preceded him. “Ready to be cleaned out, Becket?” he challenged. 

“We’ll see about that,” Yancy answered, sitting up and swinging his legs over the side of the bed. “Where’s the game?” 

“Top deck,” Gurov said. “With a clear view of the stars.” 

“We’ll see you up there,” Yancy told him, bending down to lace up his boots. 

“I look forward to it,” Gurov replied with a sly grin, shutting the door behind him. 

“Oh no,” Yancy told him before Herc could object, which, to be honest, he had really been about to do. What was it with the Beckets? Were they mind readers or was he just that transparent? 

“You’re not getting out of this, old man,” Yancy said, walking over to Herc’s side of the room and standing in front of him, hands on his hips. “No one’s going to be anti-social on the first night.” 

Herc glanced up at his companion, trying to keep the amusement off of his face. “And if I refuse?” he asked, just for the sake of it. 

Yancy’s grin turned predatory. “Then I’d have to drag your ass up there.” 

This time Herc couldn’t stop the grin that broke across his face as well. “I’d like to see you try, Becket.” 

“I’d do more than try, Hansen.”

* * * * *

Despite their blustering, no one actually had to drag anyone’s ass anywhere since Herc didn’t really mind indulging Yancy. (He had a soft spot for the Beckets. He could admit it in his quiet moments.) Four tables had been set up on the top deck (Gurov had not been joking about being under the stars), the area lit by strings of festive dangling lights. It quickly became apparent that the top deck on the east side of the ‘dome was the default party space in good weather. It was a wide space and the air had crispness to it up there. It was also clear that mother Russia was co-hosting the party with the locals as a number of the Lima Rangers had turned up, together with some of their J-techs (Diego waved at them enthusiastically) and Jaeger crews. It was a full on party with music, more food and drink, and dancing; the card playing was just one part of the festivities.

“I like Lima,” Yancy stated. “No spontaneous parties like this up at the Icebox.” 

Herc laughed. “No,” he agreed, smiling at the other man. “Not with the Marshal around.” He knew what a tight ship Pentecost liked to run. 

“What about Sydney?” 

“Aussies know how to relax,” he said with a soft smile. “Maybe not like this,” he admitted. “But ‘fun’ is part of our vocabulary.” 

“C’mon,” Yancy said, slinging an arm about Herc’s shoulders. It was the first time either one of them had shown any kind of physical affection and Herc found that Yancy’s touch was more than welcome. Yancy leaned in. “Let’s go make our brothers jealous,” he said, pulling Herc with him into the crowd of people.

* * * * *

Yancy really cut loose the night before in a way that he hadn’t when Herc had first met him in Manila. Herc supposed that Yancy’s restraint during the Manila drop had had a lot to do with Raleigh’s presence and subsequent involvement with his brother. He had gotten the impression that Yancy would’ve been more easygoing if Raleigh had hooked up with someone else.

Unfortunately, cutting loose also meant that Yancy had a royal hangover the following morning after one too many tequila shots. Herc gently shook the other man awake when Yancy had slept through the snooze on his alarm for the second time. Yancy’s response was a groan, burrowing a little deeper into his pillow to keep the light of the room away. 

“Full day ahead, Ranger,” Herc said in his most authoritative voice. “Out of bed.” 

As he suspected, Yancy responded to the military tone, glaring at Herc as pushed back the bed covers and sat up. The glare softened when Herc held out a glass of water and two aspirins. 

“Thanks,” Yancy said, accepting the aspirin and water gratefully. 

“No problem,” Herc told him, resisting the urge to reach out and touch the other man, no matter how harmless the gesture may have been. 

Herc took the lead that morning until Yancy had sufficiently recovered from the previous night. By unspoken agreement he knew that the other Ranger would do the bulk of the work in the afternoon. Diego dropped in on them from time to time as they moved from the various divisions of the Shatterdome and the J-tech officer joined them for lunch in their little nook on the second floor. 

“Cozy,” Diego commented as he sat down at the small table. He had a mischievous air about him as he grinned at the two Rangers. “This table?” he said. “It’s the couple’s table of the ‘dome. Many a private, romantic moment has happened here.” 

Both Rangers froze, Yancy in the process of taking a drink, Herc about to put a forkful of chicken in his mouth. Yancy swallowed his juice before speaking. 

“Is that your way of saying that we should vacate the table for the resident couples of the ‘dome?” he asked politely. 

Diego’s laugh was a bit too delighted for Herc’s comfort. “No,” the J-Tech officer said. “That’s my way of saying that you two” – and here he brandished his fork in their general direction – “ _are_ the resident couple of the ‘dome.” 

Yancy laughed as well, seemingly brushing aside the idea. “I’m not the only one who had too much tequila last night,” he told Diego. Then he shrugged at Herc’s still-surprised expression. “No harm, no foul,” he said lightly. 

Herc shook his head fondly. That was one way of putting it. Diego was chewing thoughtfully, his gaze flitting from one Ranger to the other. Herc thought about glaring at the young J-Tech to get any matchmaking ideas out of the kid’s head, but his heart wasn’t in it. And if he were being honest with himself, he sort of liked the idea whether there was any truth behind it or not. 

After dinner, it seemed like a third of the personnel of the Shatterdome not on active duty had spontaneously convened on the top deck. No invitations had gone out this time, but everyone simply seemed to know where to be and at what time, Herc and Yancy included. 

“You think they party like this every night?” Yancy asked in a little awe. 

“You think this should go in our reports?” Herc asked in return. 

Yancy laughed and snagged two beers from two Peruvians carrying a large cooler. “No tequila for me tonight,” he told Herc, passing the other beer to him. 

“Am holding you to that, mate,” Herc replied, popping the cap off his beer bottle. 

“Hey, hey, my friends,” Diego said, sidling up to the two of them and throwing one arm around each of them. It seemed like the J-Tech had had a head start on the drinking. “Let me show you something.” 

He pulled them through the crowd of swaying bodies since most of the deck had been converted into a dance floor on that night. The tables of card players were now on the periphery of the deck and the dangling festive lights had quadrupled in number. Diego took them away from the lights and the music. Herc grew a bit concerned when their guide began walking on the edge of the actual dome, expecting the two of them to follow. 

“You sure you’re steady enough for that?” Herc said, reaching for Diego’s left arm. 

“Woah,” Diego said at the unexpected contact, swaying a little. “It’s not far,” he replied, moving again. Herc didn’t let him go. 

“Where are we going?” Yancy called, bringing up the rear. 

“You’ll see!” Diego called back. 

They walked a quarter of the way around the ‘dome before Diego collapsed on a wide ledge, pulling Herc down with him. Herc expected a hard landing but was greeted by the softness of a cushion. Several cushions, in fact. 

“Come up here often?” Herc asked, somewhat rhetorically. 

Diego laughed that youthful, carefree laugh. “It’s another prime romantic spot,” he confided. 

“You bring your dates up here?” was Yancy’s incredulous reply. He was sitting on the other side of Herc. 

“Look at this view!” Diego exclaimed, stretching out his arms. “Who can resist this?” 

It was the first time that Herc was able to get a look at where they were and he raised an eyebrow in surprise while Yancy let out a low whistle beside him. The view _was_ impressive. They were midway through the ‘dome overlooking the city and Herc didn’t think anywhere in Lima possessed quite the same view. Diego was digging into a chest on his left and he triumphantly pulled out another bottle of tequila, passing it onto the two Rangers. 

“Not that poison,” Yancy groaned when he saw the bottle. 

The three of them stayed up there for the rest of the night. When the air began to bite, Diego pulled out a blanket from his magical chest and they shared it. Diego was a chatty, happy drunk and he carried the bulk of the conversation, talking enthusiastically about Lima, his hometown and Peru, in general. Somewhere along the line, Yancy’s left hand had found its way into Herc’s right hand under the blanket as the other man moved a little closer to share the warmth. Herc didn’t question it or comment, fingers curling around Yancy’s hand in a light but firm grip. By the time Yancy was using his shoulder as a pillow and Diego was chattering about the week long festival that was being celebrated in the city, it dawned on Herc that what he felt was contentment, and he couldn’t remember the last time he’d felt such peace.

* * * * *

“What? Jesus Rals, it’s not like that.”

A pause. 

“No, it’s not.” 

Exasperation. 

“Because everything _isn’t_ about sex.” 

A longer pause. 

“He’s not interested.”

Insistence. 

“I know, all right?” 

More insistence. 

“I just do. Besides, don’t even know if he swings that way.” 

A laugh. 

“Well, of course _you_ do. How’s the drive going?” 

Amusement. 

“Uh-huh.” 

More amusement. 

“Dare I ask about the Flint Project?” 

A bark of laughter. 

“You’re hopeless, Rals.” 

Affection and exasperation. 

“Yeah, yeah. I gotta go. See you soon.” 

Eavesdropping was something Herc loathed but when he opened the bathroom door, he’d heard Yancy speaking and it only took a moment to figure out that he was talking to his brother. Herc wanted to give him some privacy so he’d shut the door again, but without the water running in the shower, Yancy’s voice filtered all too clearly. He tried not to follow their conversation, distracting himself by brushing his teeth a second time. Nevertheless, Herc felt himself flushing when he picked up that they were talking about _him_ (at least, it sounded like they were talking about him). He was less embarrassed but still a tad conflicted when the conversation shifted to Raleigh’s ‘Flint Project.’ There was no reason why he should care about that. By the time the brothers’ conversation ended, Herc was done brushing his teeth and he made an unnecessary amount of noise to indicate that he was about to come out. 

“It’s all yours,” he told Yancy as he walked towards his bunk. He felt uncharacteristically self-conscious, wearing only a PPDC-issue white towel around his waist, but Yancy only nodded and disappeared behind the closed bathroom door.

* * * * *

The third day saw a shift in their routine as they finally got an opportunity to put Lima’s Jaeger Academy recruits through their paces. They spent the morning outdoors. “They have a real obstacle course,” Yancy had observed in obvious glee, before taking the recruits on a punishing ten mile run. He chided Herc for sitting out the run but was suitably impressed by the way Herc put the recruits through their drills in the Combat Room after lunch.

“I see what you were saving your strength for, old man,” Yancy had teased him in a whisper after Herc had shamed another pair of recruits on the combat floor. 

“Watch it, Becket,” Herc had growled. “Or it’s your arse that’s gonna be next.” 

“My ‘arse’ has been yours all week,” Yancy had replied, voice low so that none of the recruits had overheard. 

Herc had been so surprised (and consequently so distracted) by the statement that he’d let the next pair of cadets actually take a point from him. He’d thrown Yancy a dirty look to which the other man had simply smiled, his blue eyes laughing. Herc swore to himself not to be distracted for the remainder of the session.

* * * * *

“We should check out the festival tonight,” Diego suggested over dinner. They were seated on the ground floor of the mess hall at one of the center tables for a change. “It’s the last night. The other Rangers are going into town as well. What do you say?”

Yancy shrugged. “I’m game,” he said. He gave Herc a questioning look. “Are you feeling up to it, old man?” 

Herc gave Yancy a sardonic smile of his own. “Just try and keep up, Becket,” he said. 

The three of them took Diego’s car, an open-aired army jeep, into the city. Gurov, Yoshida, Hu Wei, the Ranger from Hong Kong and Ho-Yung Lee, the Ranger from Kyushu had piled into a PPDC van being driven by another J-Tech. They couldn’t drive into the heart of the city since the main streets had been cordoned off. They parked at the periphery and walked in. The festival was literally in the streets with numerous food stalls, games, dancing and a parade winding through the city. Everyone wore brightly colored attire – some in very scantily clad but still brightly colored attire – and had their faces painted. Others wore masks instead of the face paint. 

“It is like _carnivale_ in Rio,” Gurov observed. 

“I don’t think we’re appropriately dressed,” Yancy replied. 

“We can change that,” Hu Wei answered, grabbing Ho-Yung by the arm and dragging him to a face-painting booth. Gurov grinned and laughed, following the two Rangers and even Yoshida, the most reserved of them all, sighed in resignation and headed for the face-painting booth. 

Yancy turned to Herc expectantly. 

“No,” was Herc’s stern reply. 

There was a split second when Herc thought Yancy was going to object, but instead the other man burst out laughing and said, “Come on, then. Don’t want to lose Diego.” He spun Herc around and Herc was hyper-aware of Yancy’s hand on his back, pushing him forward into the crowd. Diego was already ahead of them, caught in the throng of dancing people. He waved at them and Yancy waved back, his left hand still on Herc’s back. Herc reached behind him and grasped Yancy’s hand, startling the other man by the gesture. This was not the tequila-induced, sleepy handholding of the night before. Yancy looked at their joined hands for a moment, another grin breaking out on his face as he squeezed Herc’s hand in return, allowing the other man to lead him through the crowd.

* * * * *

The three of them made their way through the streets, occasionally stopping at the stalls. Diego insisted that they try certain foods and Yancy was only too happy to oblige him.

“More food?” Herc inquired, implying that they’d only eaten about an hour ago. 

“A habit I picked up from Rals,” Yancy explained. “He’s always saying that street food is the best kind of food, the real flavor of a country.” 

“Your brother is right,” Diego agreed, paying the vendor. “Here,” he said, handing Yancy one of the sticks. It was a type of corn on the cob, dipped in some kind of sauce and then slathered with shredded cheese. 

Yancy thanked him and bit into the corn. ( _Was it a dessert?_ Herc wondered.) His reaction was similar to Raleigh’s reaction in Manila when the younger Becket had tasted the _hakaw_ in Chinatown. 

“Herc, try this,” Yancy insisted, passing the corn to the other Ranger. 

Herc humored him and tasted the corn, nodding in approval. Christ, the Beckets would turn him into a foodie if he spent any more time with either of them. He was about to pass the corn back to Yancy but the other man objected. 

“It’s yours,” Yancy said. “I’ll buy another one.” 

“No, it’s on me,” Diego protested, already purchasing another stick from the vendor. 

With their sticks of corn in hand the three of them went on their way, Yancy once more slipping his free hand into Herc’s, their bodies touching as they walked side by side.

* * * * *

The evening was going well, Herc being buoyed by the high spirits of the crowd and the nearness of Yancy. They hadn’t run into any of the other Rangers since they parted ways at the face-painting booth, but Herc was certain that they were having their own fun. How could they not? Diego would flit away thanks to the pulsating crowd and then find his way back to them. Herc wondered if Yancy wanted to join in the dancing. He couldn’t tell if Yancy was the dancing type, although he could easily imagine Raleigh being pulled into this crowd.

Diego had just returned to them, an attractive brunette accompanying him. They were talking animatedly and Diego was shaking his head. 

Yancy nudged him. “Looks like Diego’s in demand,” he said, motioning towards the J-Tech who was trying to stave off the young woman’s advances. 

Herc was about to agree until the woman stopped talking and her gaze fell on Yancy. Herc recognized the look in her eye. It said that Yancy was about to be her prey. 

“Everything all right?” Yancy asked Diego, oblivious to the woman’s admiration. 

Diego sighed as the woman nudged him, gesturing towards Yancy. Yancy noticed this and looked back at Diego inquiringly. 

“She wants to . . .” Diego trailed off, seemingly searching for the right word. “Offer herself to you,” he said at last. 

Yancy looked at the young woman with slightly widened eyes, a grin threatening to break out on his face. 

“I told her that you’re not available,” Diego explained. 

_Damn right, he’s not_ , Herc wanted to say. 

“But then she said that she’d like to offer herself to both of you,” Diego went on. 

“Oh, she would?” Yancy commented, unable to keep the grin off of his face now. He was smiling at the woman and she was smiling back. Herc felt something twisting in his gut at the relatively harmless exchange. It was silly, really. It wasn’t like he had any sort of claim on Yancy, but maybe that ought to change. 

“Tell her I don’t share,” Herc told Diego sternly. 

Yancy glanced at him, clearly amused by his reaction. Herc didn’t wait for Diego to finish speaking to the woman before he grabbed Yancy’s hand again and pulled him away. He needed to get away from the brunette, shocked by the reaction her suggestion had provoked in him. He didn’t think of himself as the jealous or possessive type. 

“Hey,” Yancy was calling behind him, tugging at his hand to slow him down. “Hey,” Yancy said again. “I think you’re over-reacting.” 

Herc knew the other man was right, but he whirled around suddenly, crowding into the other man’s space. Yancy held his ground; his body flush against Herc’s. “Just so you know,” he practically growled into Yancy’s ear. “I _am_ interested.” 

That was all the incentive Yancy needed, his free hand coming behind Herc’s neck to pull the other man down into a kiss. Herc was pushed by the crowd of people moving around them, but he returned the kiss without reservation, tasting the beer and spices that Yancy had eaten and something else that belonged uniquely to the younger man. Yancy was walking them backwards, away from the center of the crowded street until Herc had him pinned against the wall of a building. The festival had turned into a distant background noise for Herc, so focused was he on the other man. He felt like he was devouring him. Yancy’s hands were busy, worming their way under Herc’s shirt, exploring the plane of muscle that he found there. They were moving lower, fingering Herc’s belt. Herc was grinding Yancy into the wall, preventing Yancy from going any lower. 

“Stop,” Herc said, breaking the kiss. “Not here.” 

Yancy was laughing. “Don’t think anyone’s going to notice,” he said, nipping at Herc’s jaw. 

“They will with what I want to do to you,” Herc pointed out, sucking a particularly hard kiss on Yancy’s neck. That might leave a bruise, he thought with satisfaction. It took real willpower but he stepped away from the other man, appreciating Yancy’s mixture of petulance and debauchery against the wall. He held out his hand and Yancy took it, virtually undressing Herc with his eyes. Herc was already half-hard and his lust-filled brain could only focus on one thing – finding someplace private and fast. 

They stayed on the sidewalk this time, Herc scanning the buildings around them. There had to be a hotel or _pensionado_ nearby. A tug on his hand had them changing direction into a side street, still filled with revelers and even more scantily clad people. 

“I don’t think this is a hotel,” Yancy commented, eyeing the old-style three-story building that they’d stopped in front of, and the women draped on the wrought-iron balconies. 

“I don’t fucking care,” Herc growled. 

They were at the front desk before they knew it and Herc was paying for a room, completely ignoring the brothel’s offerings. Then Herc was dragging Yancy up a flight of stairs, opening the first door on the right, not caring if it was occupied or not. It wasn’t. Not that Herc would’ve noticed since he had Yancy up against the wall again as soon as he’d kicked the door shut. 

Yancy was quick, stripping both of them efficiently in between kisses and gropes and teasing licks and bites. Then he pushed himself off the wall and backed Herc into the bed at the center of the room. They fell back onto it, Yancy immediately straddling him. He kept their lower bodies together, setting up a maddening rhythm as he rocked into Herc, their erections rubbing against each other. Herc held Yancy by his hips, increasing the friction between them. 

“Fuck, I could come like this,” Yancy muttered, his head thrown back. 

“Not gonna happen,” Herc told him before he switched their positions. Yancy landed on the bed with a soft groan, legs spread to accommodate Herc. 

“I didn’t bring anything,” Yancy said ruefully, reaching out to touch the other man. 

“Forgot all your boy scout training?” Herc asked, already thinking ahead. He was pulling open the drawers in the bedside table nearest to them. They were in a godamn brothel. There had to be supplies. The first drawer contained two pairs of handcuffs, several silk scarves and a cockring. 

Yancy had spit into his palm and was stroking Herc, keeping Herc’s dick very interested. “I was never a boy scout,” he said, his thumb circling Herc’s tip before pressing into the slit and making Herc hiss. Herc gave him a warning look that only made Yancy laugh and he spit into his palm again. “It wasn’t a Becket family thing,” he said, resuming the long, even strokes. “Being a boy scout.” 

“Yeah?” Herc said, rummaging around the second drawer. Bingo. Two containers of lube and a box of condoms. “What was?” he asked, taking out the lube and popping the cap.

“Brawling and after school detention,” Yancy said, grinning lazily. 

Herc leaned over to kiss him, slow this time. “How do you want to do this?” he asked. 

“Like this,” Yancy said, taking the lube from him and coating his fingers liberally. Then he was reaching behind him, body arching off the bed as he stretched himself. Herc sat back and drank in the sight of Yancy splayed out for him, fucking himself on his fingers, preparing himself for Herc’s cock. It was the hottest thing he’d ever seen and he instinctively grasped his own cock and began stroking to the sight. 

Yancy had shut his eyes and judging by the moans that were falling from his lips, he’d found his own pleasure center. His cock was swollen and neglected, and Herc bent over, making sure to anchor the other man’s hips down before he licked a long wet stripe along the underside of Yancy’s cock. Just as he expected, Yancy gasped and bucked into the contact, his fingers stuttering in their actions. 

“I got you,” Herc murmured, pulling Yancy’s hand away and replacing them with his own slicked fingers. Yancy was arching off the bed, but Herc still held him down with his free hand. Then he was diving in, suckling at Yancy’s tip before swallowing more of Yancy’s cock, fingers searching for that spot within the other man’s body. When Yancy screamed, Herc knew he’d found it. He brushed the nub again, and the motion caused Yancy to thrust into his mouth. He could feel the other man’s fingernails digging into his shoulder and the pain spurred him on. Yancy was unraveling beneath him and when he knew that he’d taken the other man right to the very edge, he pulled him back. He leaned over him predatorily, ripping open the plastic wrapper of a condom and said, “I’m going to fuck you now.” 

Yancy still managed to give him that patent Becket shit-eating grin in his debauched state and he pushed his legs against his chest, opening himself in invitation. “Well, come on then,” he challenged. 

The slide in was smooth as though Yancy’s body welcomed the invasion. Herc had planned to fuck the other man through the mattress but something happened when he was fully sheathed, their breaths mingling as Yancy leaned up to kiss him. Herc melted into the slow tempo of the kiss and his actions mirrored the languor as he began to shallowly thrust into the other man. With Yancy’s encouragement, his thrusts became deeper until he was hitting just the right spot inside the other man and their bodies were moving in sync. Yancy had reached between their bodies to stroke his own cock and Herc realized in that brief moment of clarity before they both tumbled over the edge that he was making love to Yancy Becket.

* * * * *

Later, as they lay spent and soaking in the afterglow of post-coital bliss, there was a knock at the door. Yancy glanced at Herc inquiringly.

“Didn’t lock it,” Herc answered. 

Yancy shrugged and called out, “It’s open!” 

They were both sprawled naked on the bed, legs in a tangle with Herc’s arm slung around Yancy’s waist. Neither one of them could be bothered to cover themselves up. 

A young woman dressed in a red teddy entered and closed the door behind her. “Good evening,” she said in accented English. “I come with the room,” she told them, shamelessly eyeing both of them. 

Yancy gave Herc another look. “You’re not going to turn into the green-eyed monster again, are you?” he asked. 

Herc sucked on his earlobe. “It would be rude to refuse the hospitality,” he replied.

* * * * *

If Diego noticed the following morning at breakfast how relaxed his two companions were or how gingerly Yancy appeared to be sitting down at the mess hall, he didn’t comment on it. Neither did he ask where the two of them had disappeared to the previous night nor how they got back to the ‘dome, much less what _time_ they had got back to the ‘dome. He did, however, pull Yancy aside while Herc putting the cadets through the morning drills and made a suggestion.

* * * * *

By late afternoon all the visiting Rangers were back in the briefing room where they’d convened on the first day. Herc was pouring himself a cup of coffee (he was going to miss the coffee) when Yancy appeared beside him.

“Hey,” the other man said, discreetly brushing Herc’s waist as he reached for an empty cup. 

“Take this,” Herc told him, handing Yancy his cup. 

Yancy grinned and Herc expected him to crack some quip about ‘Chivalry being dead,’ but the other pilot only smiled his thanks, fingers lingering on Herc’s hand as he took the cup of coffee from him. 

“So,” Yancy began after he’d savored a long drink of the strong coffee. “When are you heading back?” 

“Tomorrow morning,” Herc answered. “You?” 

“Same.” 

Herc waited. That clearly wasn’t the end of the conversation. 

“How do you feel about staying the weekend?” Yancy finally asked. “Tomorrow’s Saturday. I can swing two days leave and head back on Monday.” He looked at Herc and Herc met his even gaze. The idea appealed to him. 

“What would we do?” he asked instead. 

“Diego’s offering his aunt’s beachfront cabana for the weekend. It’s a couple of hours drive outside of the city, but he says it’s real quiet there. Peaceful. The stuff vacations are supposed to be made out of.” 

_Or romantic getaways_ , Herc thought. “Diego?” he said aloud. “Kid’s quite the matchmaker, isn’t he?” 

“I ain’t complaining,” Yancy said with a grin. 

Herc wasn’t either. 

“When was the last time you took some time out for yourself?” 

“Can’t remember,” Herc answered truthfully. 

“So?” Yancy prodded him with his foot. 

“I can get two extra days.” 

That explained what they were doing in the cabana on this particularly lazy Sunday afternoon. After a very early start, they’d arrived at the little coastal village a little past eight in the morning. They’d had breakfast in a little café in town before looking for Diego’s aunt’s cabana, which hadn’t been at all difficult to find. The first thing they’d decided to do was break in the bed (it was only logical) before exploring the town in the afternoon and stocking up on crucial supplies such as beer and prophylactics. They’d had dinner at Fernando’s, a family-owned restaurant that Diego recommended and then locked themselves up in the cabana. By the time Sunday dawned, it was clear to both of them that unless a Kaiju breached the Miracle Mile, neither one of the them was getting out of bed unless absolutely necessary. 

Herc had heard Yancy speaking to Raleigh again when he was in the bathroom, but this time he didn’t bother with the whole privacy issue, coming out when he was done and giving the other man a soft smile. Yancy had looked at him brightly but had kept the conversation going. This time Herc could hear Raleigh laughing at something through the tablet. He’d gone into the kitchen to get a snack, vaguely wondering if the Beckets were talking about him again. 

He eventually got an answer to that question as he was laying down in bed, sated after another round of sex. Yancy was resting his head against Herc’s side, laying down perpendicular to him. Herc was about to doze off when Yancy asked him the most unexpected question. 

“How long have you been crushing on my brother?” 

Herc was startled to full consciousness and he must’ve tensed because Yancy laughed and put a hand on his chest, rubbing small soothing circles. 

“It’s okay,” Yancy assured him. “I’m not offended. I think everyone’s a little bit in love with Raleigh, like it’s part of his DNA or something.” 

Herc didn’t feel all that appeased. “Yancy,” he began, instantly realizing how he rarely called the other man by his first name. 

Yancy shifted, moving up the bed so that he was stretched out beside Herc, propped up on his elbows. “It’s okay,” he said again. “Really. It doesn’t make this . . .” He gestured between them. “Any less . . . _real_.” 

Herc liked the sound of that. _Real_. It meant that he wasn’t the only one invested in whatever was happening between them, that whatever it was meant something to Yancy too. It was . . . real. 

“So, Rals?” Yancy prodded, looking more devious than Herc could ever remember seeing him. “Manila? Before Manila?” 

“Why does it matter?” 

Herc answered Yancy’s questions with a question of his own, the unvoiced implication being that Yancy had been right in the first place. Yancy understood this and his grin widened. 

“It matters ‘cos you’re not the only one,” he explained. 

“What?” Herc couldn’t keep the shock out of his voice. 

Yancy shook his head, but the action was full of affection. “You were so clueless, it was actually painful.” 

“What are you talking about?” Herc asked a little too sharply. 

“Manila,” Yancy said, speaking as though Herc were five years old. “Raleigh was so psyched to finally meet you, but when the moment came he just clammed up. I’d never seen him so shy. Didn’t even think that word was in his vocabulary. It was almost adorable.” 

Herc thought back to their first meeting on the balcony of the Manila Hotel outside the main ballroom. He hadn’t imagined Raleigh’s shyness after all or the way the kid had looked at him with something akin to hero-worship in his eyes. 

“Then your brother had to swoop in and distract him,” Yancy continued, his tone turning a little sour. “Scott treated him well, though. I’ll give him that.” It was said grudgingly and it was Herc’s turn to rub soothing circles on Yancy’s back. “Can’t say I minded too much in the end,” Yancy admitted. “It meant I got to know you better.” The devious grin was back. “Rals is gonna want to know all the details about this trip. He was already hounding me this morning.” 

“You the type to kiss and tell?” 

“No, but he’s hard to resist.” 

“The little brother card,” Herc supplied. 

“That little shit plays it well.” 

“You’re just a big softie.” 

“Like you’re any better,” Yancy retorted, lightly punching him in the arm. Herc caught Yancy’s wrist easily and he rolled onto his side so that he was facing the other man. Yancy mirrored his actions, not pulling his wrist away from Herc’s grasp. 

“He’ll find out for himself in the drift. Eventually,” Yancy went on, watching as Herc placed a gentle kiss on the inside of his wrist. “But god, you should’ve seen him after Manila. Wouldn’t stop asking about you. Wanted to know what we talked about, what were your interests.” 

“This isn’t going to upset him?” Herc asked, pulling Yancy closer. 

Yancy obliged, shifting until Herc was able to wrap an arm around his waist. He leaned in and stole a languorous kiss before answering the question. 

“Are you kidding me?” he chided softly. “Raleigh was the one _encouraging_ me to seduce you.” At Herc’s surprised look, he shrugged. “Rals doesn’t mind sharing. Or living vicariously,” he added, a private smile on his face that Herc couldn’t quite decipher. “He’d join us next time too,” Yancy said, placing a hand on Herc’s chest, right above the other man’s heart. “If _you_ don’t mind sharing.” 

 

**Fin.**


End file.
